Certain
by domino1957
Summary: A missing moment from Mannion.


"Certain"

_Author's Note: The following "Missing Moment" occurs in Mannon in the time between Newly's warning to Matt Dillon and the showdown between the marshal and Will Mannon._

It was the sound of a galloping horse headed towards him that brought him to his feet. Cautiously he stood behind the brush, looking in the direction of the noise, hand resting casually on the butt of his gun. As the rider drew into sight, he visibly relaxed but a chill ran up his spine: why would Newly O'Brien be here on this road at this time? There must be trouble in Dodge.

Newly pulled his horse to a stop. Sides heaving, the lathered animal bore witness to frantic ride. Dismounting quickly, the words were out of his mouth before he even hit the ground. "Figured to find you on the Ellsworth Road, Marshal—"

"Well, I took the Vinegaroon turnoff instead-"

"-That's what they told me at the stage depot."

The young man appeared as winded as his horse. "What's wrong?" asked Dillon.

Catching his breath, he got right to the point. "Will Mannon's in town." he said grimly.

"Will Mannon?" echoed the marshal. No wonder the young man was so spooked.

Newly swallowed hard and the words came out in a rush. "Marshal, I know guns and I've never seen _anybody_ beggin' your pardon _anybody _faster than the likes of him. He's wolfing up Dodge: taking what he wants. Doing what he wants. He shot Festus. Wounded him real bad "

The marshal wasted no more time. "Help me get my stuff together," he said and turned to gather his gear.

"Marshal?" Dillon paused and faced him again. Newly's voice was flat and matter-of-fact. "He could kill you certain."

It took only a matter of minutes for the marshal to get his gear together and his horse saddled. Newly, having ridden his horse into the ground with the warning, was unable to push the animal any further without giving it a rest. Unable to accompany the marshal, he felt helpless as he watched him ride out of sight. Stripping the saddle from his horse and he began rubbing him down with the saddle blanket. While he worked, he wondered if he would ever see the marshal alive again.

Buck settled into a familiar ground-eating lope. Mile after mile rolled beneath the pounding hoofs. Dillon hurried the horse as much as possible. Will Mannon! he thought to himself as he rode. And he knew that it might be as Newly had said; Mannon just might kill him certain.

Will Mannon had ridden with Quantrill in the raid on Lawrence. Everyone knew about Lawrence, about the 150 dead men left behind when the killing was over. Mannon was said to be the brains behind Quantrill. He had survived the war and was last seen in the Indian territory.

What brought him to Dodge? What damage had he done? The marshal's mind was filling with scenarios. Newly had said that Mannon was still in town taking and doing as he pleased. Mentally, he ran down a list of targets. The bank must be safe or Newly would have said something… Festus shot but only badly wounded…so Doc must be all right…Kitty - and he stopped that thought.

"He's come for me," he whispered. His own voice surprised him. Had he really spoken it out loud? His thoughts returned again to Kitty. Would Mannon hurt her to get to him? It had been tried before and nothing was beneath a killer like Will Mannon. And then it occurred to him that Will Mannon probably believed he needed no edge against Matt Dillon but would hurt Kitty, hurt his friends, hurt his town just for the pleasure in it, Unable to get those words out of his mind, he felt a finger of fear touch the back of his neck. Will Mannon could kill him certain.

The big horse began to tire, so Dillon slowed him to a walk to allow him a rest. It wasn't enough, but it was all he could give. The sun set and darkness began to close around them. Will Mannon could kill him certain. Over the years, the marshal had been threatened more times than he could count. He had survived the ones that were proven to some degree to be true. He had never, however, been warned the way Newly had warned him. A second finger joined the first.

He found himself running through another list in his head. It was a short one: a horse, a few pieces of clothing, his saddle and gear, his gun. A small box of personal items that no one would value but himself. A badge. Idly, he wondered if the sale of his possessions would cover the cost of his funeral. Percy Crump already has an oversized coffin; Doc had ordered it built the night the Mace Gore gang had taken over the town a few years back. Thanks to Doc and Festus, he'd not had to use it on that particular night. Maybe tonight was the night. Will Mannon could kill him certain. He felt a third finger.

He shook his head slightly as though to clear it and nudged the horse back into a lope. It wouldn't be long now. Only a few more miles to the outskirts of Dodge City and Will Mannon. He'd soon see if Dodge was still his town or if Mannon had taken her from him, if Dodge City had become another Lawrence. Images of his town and memories of how he had protected her filled his mind. The responsibilities of the badge he wore, his life's work, paths not taken - all were there, too. "No," he said firmly, sitting a little straighter in the saddle, dislodging one of the fingers. It was not going to happen. He simply would not allow it. He had always been good enough before. He would be again tonight. The years wearing the badge had taught him many things and one of those was that it was a short list when it came to certain. A second finger slipped away.

As he reached the end of town, he slowed the horse again to a slow walk. The buildings were dark with only a few lights showing. The streets were empty of people and horses; no one wanted to challenge Will Mannon. Dim light reflected out from the Long Branch but his first stop was the livery. It had been a hard ride since Newly had found him on the road. He drew his horse to a stop in the circle of light cast by the stable's open door. "Hello, Louie," he said to the ragged man waiting there for him as he stepped down from the horse. His own voice sounded calm in his ears.

Louie Pheeters stared mournfully at the marshal. "I been prayin'- in my own fashion- you wouldn't…" His searched the darkness behind Dillon. "You're alone." he said sadly. The law man here, alone - those were certainties that were on Louie's list.

"That's right, Louie." He stood before the town's drunk, fingering a rein.

"Well, that ain't so good, Marshal," said Louie quietly. "That ain't so very good. That Mannon's here he's somethin' fast. Nothin's ever been quite like him."

Dillon nodded. "I know." His own voice was tinged with sadness. He looked at Louie. "Now, I want you to go down to the Long Branch and tell him to meet me in the street -"

"-Nooo, Marshal-," he moaned.

Dillon nodded again. "-You go on now." He took a step toward the stable.

"I ain't had too much, Marshal." Louie was desperate to help. "I could get me a rifle and climb a roof -" Tears glistened in his eyes and fear shook his frail body.

The marshal stopped and shook his head. He laid a hand on Louie's shoulder. "I thank you." he said sincerely. "But you go on now."

Louie blinked hard and slowly disappeared into the darkness. Dillon watched him got and then led his horse into the stable. The simple tasks of caring for the horse brought calmness to a mind and nerves that had been racing at a fevered pitch for the past several hours. Pulling the doors shut behind him, blocking the light from the street, he took a deep breath and walked toward the saloon. He found the remaining finger of fear and held it tight. It would be his edge against Will Mannon who could kill him certain.


End file.
